


Lost Journal

by Kosath



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Established Relationship, Hiding, M/M, Pining, Quarantine, Religious Guilt, Remorse, Rough Sex, Secrets, Sexual Tension, Smut, bandmates, blowjob, joshler - Freeform, two lives, unintentional hiatus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosath/pseuds/Kosath
Summary: ~ when your secret falls into the wrong hands ~
Relationships: Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

We are separated

It's been more than six months since we saw each other. Six months since we hung out and talked to each other in person. Six months we played a show. Six months ago we laughed to a prank the other one made up to bully someone from the crew. Six months ago we "bro-hugged" or "bro-kissed". Six fucking months we could...

It scares me how time flies. My daughter is four months old and he didn't even have a chance to hold her yet. One hundred sixty-eight days have passed since the wedding. I can't believe it's more than half a year ago we bowed to the crowd for the last time – damn I miss the shows. Back in 2017 it was different. We agreed on going into silence. Publicly. We were seeing each other, we could travel, we were working on the album...besides other stuff.

Now I’m not only missing the shows, the massive energy spur, the overwhelming feeling of love and happiness, damn I miss HIM.

Being alone in a quiet corner for longer then a few seconds in that massive building in Texas was impossible. Weddings, with guests from every fucking corner of the world, too crowded. But you know - all these years on tour taught us a lot. Sharing a few feet large tour bus or a hotel room, bathroom, food, clothes or fucking phone charger. And also mastering our skills of hiding. Knowing the routine was the most important thing to hide our... relationship. Yea, people made jokes, so did we, but no one ever caught us “in the act”. It's not that difficult to learn the habits of the crew members. After hours, days, well - even weeks - spent in the same tour bus with the same people, you somehow get into a routine. Furtive looks, inconspicuous touches while we "naturally" appeared next to each other on the dance floor, stealthy kisses when passing by in the hall. Not a big difference from being on tour. The only difference was he is the groom. So he had to be present. Shit.

I will see him. Finally! Thank God! Sure we were still in touch all this time - how couldn’t we be - face-timing everyday, thousands of emails and texts, obviously not talking _just_ about the band. He's the only one I was sexting with. He's the only one I sent and got nudes from. He's the only one who made me came untouched just by listening to his voice.

It doesn’t mean I pretent to like chicks. I like it with women. But it’s… vanilla. You like it, but it’s not driving you nuts, you’re not rock-hard just by the flashback from the previous night.

Then am I gay? Or just gay for him? Thinking about coming out? Telling the whole world the truth? Which part exactly? That I love sleeping next to him, head resting on his muscular chest, his arm around my waist, our legs tangled. That I love when he squeezes my bum while we climb up the stairs to the stage. That I love sucking my best fren’s dick or how he fucks me hard in the shower after a show and that he loves when I beg him not to stop?

NO.

Call me fucking hypocrite, liar, selfish dick, slut… I don't care. We decided to keep it to ourselves years ago. Not because we are scared what our Christian families would think, that we will lose following, or that our friends would bury us alive or that the label forced us to do so. It may sound silly but we simply want this to be ours. Just ours. ‘Cause everything else is everyone's.

Just a thought of him makes me hard. I had a vivid dream of him the other night. Innocent start – rehearsing in my basement studio for hours, his eyes closed, sweaty forehead, tongue clenched between his teeth in deep concentration. I couldn’t help it, I let the sample play and came over to him, stood behind his back and reach over his hips to his crotch. I felt him hold his breath. Just a touch and he was hard. But he didn’t stop; didn’t get off the beat for a split second. Such a good boy. I taught him well. Unbuttoning his jeans I freed him. God the view! I licked my palm and took his length, firmly, I wanted him to get distracted, to stop playing or at least skip the beat so I could torture him later for misbehaving. But he didn’t. I stroked him a few times, moaned into his ear, letting my hot breath kiss his cheek. His muscles stiffened. I couldn’t wait any longer. I turned him on his drum chair, dropped to my knees, my eyes fixed with his now wide open eyes and I licked the tip of his cock. After what seemed like hours, he took a deep breath and parted his lips. It was a go for me. I took him deep in my mouth and sucked.

I have had dreams like this ever since I met him. Maybe even earlier.


	2. Arrival

We started planning his visit just after my wife and I left Texas. The moment he appeared in Ohio, we were in our small quarantine already and couldn’t leave or bring someone to the hospital room – streptococcus.

Mid-March seemed to be perfect timing – long enough after the wedding, not that long after to celebrate the birth of my baby girl with my fellas. We would have a gaming night, a bunch of tacos and beer (yes I do drink, cancel me!) with some of our friends, just chill out like the good old days. Then this fucking corona shit happend and our plans, embroidered in tiny details, literally fell apart like a house of cards.

We were always used to working with almost nothing. We started with a low cost drum kit and an old laptop. We know how to live with little. People tend to get used to the money, higher standards, the service they get when they are _someone_. Don’t wanna sound cheesy, but I don’t think we’ve changed. Of course we can afford more than we could ten years ago, but it’s still us – just two dudes who want to make music and who have no plan B.

So we started all over again. I was watching the news. You could predict the peak and maybe the decline based on what was going on in other countries. And here we are. Three months after they banned almost all travel and locked us down in our homes, they finally opened inter-States flights. It's his birthday so he will have another reason to stay in Columbus a bit longer. As if someone would care. We are bandmates for God’s sake! We need to work on stuff. We haven’t had a proper jam session in months. No one would care. No one. Still.. It's always better to have a backup.

These last couple of months were an emotional rollercoaster. I was awake all night working and looking after my kid. Rocking her to sleep, singing to her when she had a bad dream and cried her heart out, changing diapers while my wife was asleep. I wasn’t concerned when she couldn’t fall asleep and was just blabbing in her bed. But hell I was dead tired when she screamed two or three nights in a row. Exhausted but happy AF – ‘cause damn look at her! - I fell into a coma every morning when my wife’s shift started.

I’m a so-called owl. I’m ok with being awake late at night. People close to me know I need to be alone, need to isolate myself. Sometimes. It's an inseparable part of creating. It gives me that precious time to concentrate. And space to be with him. Living like a _normal_ human being - I would have to limit our calls to work/bro-related topics. There wouldn’t be any nudes-taking and jerking off sessions.

We made a bunch of new music already, had dozens of interviews, and we were even able to create this insane ARG for the clique. Yea, high tech. I should be thankful for the lockdown, right? In a way, I am. After more than a year of touring I’m back home; I can spend some time with my family and friends, I can see my daughter grow. Gosh! She’s changing everyday. I have plenty of time to create with no need to limit myself with a minimalistic studio in a tour bus or a hotel room.

As I said, this time, it’s different. He is not around. And he was always around. And I hate it when he's not around.

He arrived on Monday. Ran some errands – seeing all the family members he didn’t have a chance to see for three months, birthday party planning, decoration and shit.

We scheduled his _uncle Jish visit_ for tomorrow.

I have no idea how I managed just sitting next to him, having casual conversation, not tearing his clothes off and not doing him there and then. It was a literal torture. Considering our wild night t(s)exting, he was feeling the same urge to bend me over the couch and fuck me. God save us.

The birthday party is over. Everyone was there. Everyone. Parents, grand-parents, siblings and their partners, wives and husbands, cousins with their families, friends. We too – me, my wife, our daughter. The whole fucking afternoon I wished we could meet in a hallway, on the way to the bathroom, in the kitchen. Be alone. Somewhere. For a second. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to kiss him.

He got the message and in a few minutes we ended up on the second floor hallway leading to a bathroom. Scrutinizing the area quickly – I always have to make sure we're alone, that there’s no one watching – I pinned him to the wall, my hands tightly gripping his hips, my right knee between his legs slowly going up to his crotch. I touched his ear with my lips lightly and I hoarsely whispered: “I missed you”.

"Damn!”, he exhaled sharply onto my cheek.

With one fluid move he flipped us. I was pinned to the wall, his hips grinding into mine.

It was like the temperature suddenly rose 30 degrees. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t swallow. My mouth was dry. It was like all the air and water evaporated from my body due to that sudden heat. It felt like I was floating. Everything got blurred. Hot and blurred.

He grabbed my hair (damn those strong hands), yanked my head back, and kissed me on the neck. I gasped, and my hips moved forward subconsciously, seeking more friction.

He loosened the grip of my hair and fondly cupped my cheeks. Locking his eyes with mine he almost cried out: “I want you so bad, Tyler".

We both were breathing heavily, staring into each other’s enlarged pupils, our lips barely touching. We stood there for a couple seconds. Until an eruption of laughter from the first floor brought us back to earth. We were both hard.


	3. Good Old Days

We are hanging out this afternoon. I feel like I’m getting ready for a first date. I’m nervous. For anyone else it's a boys’ night out. A few baskets in a park, Taco bell, beer and video games. Guys having fun. We'll be at Josh's apartment that he decided to keep - as he always says - just in case. Mrs. D had to go back to LA - "work" she said, with those hurt-lamb-eyes look - right after the party. Sometimes I wonder if she has a hunch. I noticed it earlier. Seems like she knows but .. dunno.. understands and wants to .. give us some privacy. Maybe it’s just my tired brain imagining things.

  
  


I beat them all at twenty-one. I think I was like thousands of Mario Kart rounds, we ate the entire menu offering at TB, and drank maybe five gallons of beer. Seemed like eternity. As we continued on – by midnight, trained in staying awake late night, we announced it’s time for a second round of tacos. The rest tried to play the “enough junk food” comedy but the moment we turned left on the street, in the direction of TB, they all rolled their eyes in disbelief, waved us goodbye and headed to their homes. 

We slowed down and watched their backs ‘til they disappeared completely in the dark. After what seemed like an eternity we were finally alone. 

One look. That’s all it took for us to turn speechless and head back to the apartment. I used to sleep over at Josh’s, they won’t be waiting for me to come home. Not a big deal. The neighbors know we are best friends, maybe they  _ think _ it’s something more but they don’t  _ know _ . Anyways, I was glad when he dismantled the motion sensor from his porch years ago.

I found myself pressed against the door the moment we got in. I was hard halfway through the evening. And I’m not quite sure if it’s him, being fucking sexy or the secret we have. The fact that none of them have an idea what we were up to. What we’ve been doing on a tour, off the tour, for years. All around the world. Just saying  _ fucking each other’s brains out _ is insufficient. 

I haven’t been drunk in what seemed like months. I wasn’t dead drunk, just a bit, in a  _ mood _ . 

“I can’t believe I didn’t fuck you in front of all of them. God, I missed you”, needy voice hissing to my ear from behind. Right hand on my hip, the other one clutching my chin. He licked my ear, bit my neck, and his hand moved from my hip to my tummy and travelled up my torso and tweaked my right nipple.

I thought I was going to pass out. My heart stopped beating, hopeless gasping, knees shaking, dick twitching. 

“Fuck!”, I cried, grateful for his firm grip on my chin; otherwise I would have definitely fallen to the floor. My entire body felt as if it were drugged. Well except that one particular part. THAT was painfully hard.

„Those stares you gave me, you little bitch”, tormenting me further. His right hand dancing on my torso. I just wanted him to take my clothes off and fuck me. Show no mercy. 

“Jish, I-”, I couldn’t articulate my thoughts.

“You what? Say it!” he whispered while tightening the grip on my chin. His right hand was moving slowly down my tummy, lower and lower to the waist of my pants.

“Fuck me! Please!” 

Within a second he pulled my pants and boxers down and spread my legs with his knee. I heard him spitting in his hand and the next thing I remember was his finger entering me.

When I first woke up I didn’t know where I was. I turned over and found him lying next to me, his arm around my waist. It was pitch black in the room, just a tiny stripe of a street lamp peeking in through the blinds. I could see his sparkling eyes staring at me. 

“Hi pretty”, his teeth shining in the dark, “you swooned in a doorway when…” “I remember”, I interrupted him. He smiled even wider. “Guess it was too much for your fragile soul” he teased me but exploring my reaction, making sure there’s no damage.

“How long have I been off?” I asked.

“A few seconds. You said you were fine but I thought it would be better to let you rest for a little while” he said sniffing my hair.

“I’m sorry”, I said, embarrassed, turning my head away. Like a virgin! Fainting under the first touch. Damnit.

“C’mon, you don’t have to apologize. We were both so eager. I should have slowed down, I felt dizzy too. It’s been so long”. He pulled me closer, took my chin and made me look him in the eyes. Just two dots of a microscopic light reflection gazing at me in the dark. 

I ran my hands through his hair and pressed my naked chest closer to his muscular frame. 

There were no shades anymore; our eyes got used to the dark room and we could clearly see the other one.

“God, I missed your chocolate eyes, your smooth skin, these ruby red lips”, he said, biting his lip and running his thumb over my lower lip. He leaned forward and kissed me hesitantly, like it was for the first time. I licked his lip, encouraging him to move on. He got the note, parted his lips, and met my tongue halfway to his mouth.

He rolled us over, not partying our lips. Being on top of me gave him more power and he deepened the kiss and unbuttoned his jeans, his hard member pressed on my crotch. He fixed both my hands above my head before I could touch him. “Wait”, he said gently, kissing my collar bones, went down, biting both my niples and tracing his way further down my stomach slowly then his hand hovered on my rock hard dick.

He let go of my hands as if he read my mind. The fucking heat again. I whined loudly when he pulled my boxers down, letting my cock spring free. 

“You’re ok?”

“Yea!”, was the only coherent thing I managed to let out. I was a tangle of moans and whines. 

He licked my cock from the base to tip slowly. I cried out his name, grabbed his hair, and pulled it. He hissed but didn’t stop. We both like it a bit rough, we want the pain. Something we couldn’t have with our _ wifey’s.  _

He took me in his mouth and sucked me, licked me, made noises usually only made in hardcore porn.

“Oh my God! I won’t last, damn, Josh!” He let go with a loud  _ pop _ .

“Not yet” he said and changed the position, his penis  _ à-face _ . I didn’t need any instructions. I was literally drooling. I wanted to taste him. I bit my lip, took his thick cock with one hand, stroked him a few times, and opened my mouth to let him make his way into my mouth. He shifted his weight on his hands and buried his dick deep in my throat. 

We groaned in sync when my nose touched his lower abdomen. I know he loves to gag me. And I love that near-unconsciousness state.

He fucked me in my mouth senseless. He is always the one radiating heat. It’s quite handy when you’re the one who’s (almost) always freezing. But now! He was burning, muscles tensed. I felt he was close. I wanted him to come in my mouth, but he pulled out. Trembling, he took a deep breath and I seized the moment. I reached up to his mouth and put my pointer finger in, taking his dick into my mouth again. My finger traced its way to his anus. 

“You want me to come in your mouth?” he got it.

I moaned and pushed my finger in. 

“Fuck, Tyler, you’ll kill me”, he panted, arched his back, hands against the headboard, he began pumping into my mouth again. Crying out my name, he came.

God, he tastes so good! I swallowed his whole load, not wasting a single drop. He collapsed next to me, sweating, breathing heavily, post-orgasmic spasm thrilling his entire body. He pulled me closer and wrapped me in his arms. 

“Damnit, Tyler! I love it!” 

I kissed him in the crook of his neck. I wanted these words to resonate in my head for a bit longer.

Forever. 

He rubbed my spine lightly, up and down, up and down. I shivered. I wasn’t because I felt cold. And he knew. He kissed my forehead, he tilt my head up by the chin with one finger and kissed me.  Oh, the feeling of his strong hands quivering along my body – my face, my arms, my chest, my ribs; tracing the shape of my spine, resting on the small of my back and then slipping under my boxers and caressing my bum. Turning me on my back, he grabbed my aching dick, using those few drops of precome as lube. to stroke me slowly, resting his hand tightly on the base. He was kneeling between my legs, lowering his upper body to my cock. He looked up to my face once again, as if seeking permission to go further. Jesus! My hungry eyes said enough, I guess. He smiled, came a bit closer and licked me - base to tip. He knows it drives me nuts. His name echoed in the room as I exhaled it desperately.

He took the head of my pulsing member into his mouth and circled his tongue around it a few times. I clenched my teeth and dug my nails into the sheets, buckling up to get deeper into his mouth. Cursing through my teeth, “Holy shit”.

His tongue was dancing around my dick like a ballerina. Pumping me off there and then he made my eyes roll back in my head, I almost tore up the sheets. That unbearable heat. That familiar shiver inside my body, deep in my abdomen, spreading … growing. I thought I was gonna explode. He knows me so well. He spread my legs even wider, brushed my entrance with his thumb and entered with it. 

“Jesus Christ!

We were lying pressed to each other in the bed for a bit. We didn’t care about the sweat or the sticky come on our hands, bellies... Calming our breaths and hearts down. 

“You think they don’t suspect?” I asked him. 

“The girls, friends or -..” “The girls”, I specified.

“I don’t think so.”

“Debs, when she was leaving, she had that look-”

“What look?”

“Like- ...she knows, but is ok with it”

“Do you want them to know?”

“We agreed we don’t want them to know”

“Well we did, but if you wanna make amends .. we can”.

Silence.

Do I want anyone to know? Would all of this be same exciting then? Or less dangerous? Less  _ improper _ ?

“I don’t. I want this to be ours. Forever.” I didn’t know why I brought the topic up. Damn I know I want this to be for us only. Just us.

“I love you, Tyler. No matter what” he said, intensified his hug and kissed me into my hair.

“Love you too”

We went to the bathroom to take a shower. He covered my body with soap and with a washcloth he carefully massaged every inch of my skin. I was watching him quietly as he was moving slowly from one limb to another, from shoulder to fingers, from left side to right side. Water dripped from above his head, traveling down his face, making its way to his wide chest, running around his nipple, lower, lower and meeting another drop then joining together on his belly and going further down to his crotch. I gulped and looked him in the eyes. I was jealous of these drops. He knew what he was doing to me. He raised the corner of his lip into a smirk. He let the water wash away all the foam. He didn’t look away from me. Following the water running down my body. As if he wanted to imprint the view into his memory. I love when he’s looking at me like this, when he’s taking care of me like this. He looked up to my eyes again, found me staring at him, mouth ajar. It slapped me hard in my face - the memory or him, above me, fucking my mouth… As if he could read my mind. He kissed me - lips, shoulder, ribs, belly button, left hip... Then he sat down in front of me and kissed my abdomen and with both hands he caressed my tights, my butt. My cock very ready, sticking out. He was so close to me. I could feel his hot breath. He took my dick in a hand, squeezed it softly and took me in. I stared at him, mouth hung open, hardly breathing. 

“God!” 

He motioned to me to turn around and rest my leg on the bath edge. He caressed my bum with both his hands, kissed me on the cheeks and he licked my hole. I had to lean on to the wall in case my knees would give up. Jesus! A sharp contraction just run through my guts! Just the thought of that moment, these one or two seconds. Fuck!

Feeling his tongue twirling around my entrance and slipping inside of me time to time made my head spin, knees trembling and so, so weak. When he put one finger in, accompanied with his tongue I thought I’ll collapse. Deeper and deeper he made his way into my body. Holy shit I missed this!

Second finger… third. The more he was stretching me out the more I begged for his cock. I didn’t even realize I’m stroking myself until he swatted my hand from my dick and took control. I didn’t have to say it out loud, he knew I was on the edge again. He made me bent over even more, spread my cheeks and slammed into me. Hard AF. I yelled so loud when he hit my prostate. So loud that I have to thank all the saints that there is a 20 foot gap between his and the neighbor’s houses. 

He repeated the movement just three or four times and I was coming into his palm, screaming his name in agony. He grabbed my hips eagerly and slammed into me a couple more times before he climaxed inside of me. 

I have no idea how many times I came that night or what time it was till we see the light breaking into the apartment. It’s dawning. We didn’t mind we haven’t sleep. Actually, from the moment we scheduled this  _ sleepover _ , we both knew it would have nothing to do with sleeping. 

  
  


I was absolutely sober the moment I woke up after that  _ hall accident _ . Though, all that time I felt like I was stoned and I wished I was dreaming and that I didn’t want to wake up.

The room, the whole fucking world stood still, yet spun around me at the same time. There was no gravity, no pressure, no hiding, no witnesses, no limits, no guilt. Nothing held us back. Just that overwhelming indescribable mixture of anticipation, excitement, and desire. Home.

Finally, after six months of insane desperation, I was home.

  
  


I hate the morning-afters. It’s not because I hate to go back. It’s not that I don’t love my wife, my daughter - I can’t imagine not having her. It’s just… I know I have to leave  _ him _ . I hate leaving him. Even for a short while.

I pushed back the thoughts of  _ leaving  _ aside and did my best to enjoy the time we had left for now. We spent the whole morning in the bed, bent over the couch, pinned to the wall, kneeling in the bathroom sucking one and other. We were fucking in every corner of the apartment. 

Howling stomachs kicked us out.


	4. The Basement

It’s Sunday. We don’t go to church anymore. Only when Dave wants me to get on stage and entertain the community. But it hasn’t happened for ages. We will join the livestream as usual. Not that I’m complaining, but being _famous_ has its dark side. It’s not possible to be a regular church goer. And … maybe I’m glad I have an _excuse_ not to go.

We just finished lunch and I kissed the girls with the casual _I’m going downstairs_ and hid myself in the basement. He will come tomorrow, we need a rehearsal and to record the stuff we are working on - _making lemonade_ _via email._ A lot of work ahead for us. I have to make some tweaks. Most importantly, I need to stop the voices. Music is my non-chemical medicine. 

You might think I'm a shameless bastard. But I’m not a robot. I do have a heart, feelings, a conscience… and I feel guilty. Sometimes. I’m sitting here, staring into the laptop screen unable to move on. Why am I so fucked up this time? After all these years? We’ve done it thousands of times. Is this what I’m… what WE are doing, the life we are living... right? One half of my heart knows; and I prefer it to be right, but the other half makes me doubt it. It feels so natural, being with him, so why the hell can’t I stop the fucking buzzing in my head? Is it so different - me (a man) touching myself and letting someone (another man) do so? Am I really THAT wicked? 

Sinful bitch.

I’ll burn in hell. 

Sunday... Sundays will always be...

I dug myself out of the basement at around midnight. The house was dark and quiet. Jenna looked up at me when I climbed into the bed and she curled up to me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up”, I said and kissed her hair.

“You didn’t, I just came back from Ro’s room”, she said and pressed her body closer to mine.

She caressed my arm, kissed me on the shoulder. She reached out to my crotch and started palming me over the thin material of my shorts I had on. I thought of an excuse to go away - need to go to the bathroom, I’m thirsty, I’m hungry, I’m ...

“Honey,” I whispered, laid my hand over hers gently and moved it up to my chest, “I’m sorry....” I didn’t lie, telling her I was dead tired. I didn’t sleep for the last four or five nights at all. I saw her confused look, but she didn’t say a word - just smiled, kissed me on the lips, and laid her head on my shoulder. 

Great! Now I’m refusing my own wife. 

  
  


I don’t know how, but I managed to fall asleep. No dreams, nor any images from what happened just a few hours ago in Josh’s apartment. A literal black-out. Honestly, I’m thankful Ro’s getting up early and keeping Jenna busy. I scrambled down to the basement - no need to worry about not taking a shower or eating breakfast. I’m independent down here - snacks, redbull, bathroom, couch... I can live here, underneath the surface, for days without the need to go out.

We were t(s)exting all day. It’s like we’re back in 2010 - when we first met, when we were hanging out and when we were... dating. Was it even dating?

Suddenly everything came back to me. It was like when people talk about their NDE - a flash of light, random images from the past appearing in front of you. Shaking hands in the dressing room; the first time I googled him, texted him. The first call. The first time we hung out and spent the entire night talking about our favorite bands...oh gosh, that silly twenty-questions game. Transatlanticism. Damn that song has given me chills since forever, and somehow it intensified when I met him. Petrified, confused, scared, worried - hated myself when I realized I wanted to be with him more than _just bros hanging out._ The night he sang to me...

_And if I'm not there and I'm far away,_

_I said don't be afraid,_

_Don't be afraid, we’re going home_

Bruddles. Josh playing with my hair. The moment he became a part of the band. The hours spent in that small van, oh shit that night at Ichthus, first sex… 

In April, it was ten years since we'd met. We didn’t even talk about all of this back in April. Why is everything coming back just now? 

I usually don’t lock the door, she’s not coming down here. Sometimes she gets jealous that Josh is allowed to be here and she’s not. But I eventually learned to find the right words to calm her down. It’s my space! End of discussion - I thought to myself. This time I locked the door. We both like the adrenaline rushing through our veins, this sick excitement, the possibility of being caught. But we are not insane.

“Hey Jishwa”. After the _official_ welcome procedure at the front door I greeted him properly. I pressed him to the wall and purred into his ear, my hips gyrating on his crotch.

“Hi baby”, he gripped tightly on my sides as a response. It all happened so fast. Hair pulling, kissing became deepened and sloppy, jeans off, jerking off one and other hastily. And again every other hour. Oh my God, I don't remember the last time I've been sucked (and sucked him) so many time during a day.

Just like two horny teenagers. 

I wonder if we ever grow up. 

We spent the whole day in the studio. It was like there was no lockdown, all of the sudden it felt like we’ve never been apart, like we’ve never left the studio. Everything we came across that day just felt right. I had tons of unfinished records and now?! The things I was going crazy about for weeks, I couldn’t figure out the right tempo or the best drum break - he simply set the beat and it all came together smoothly. Everything seems easy with him. Natural. It always did. I knew I needed him in the band since the moment I saw him for the first time at a HoH show. Moments like this convince me this is right. This is okay. I need him in my life. All the voices stopped, the doubts vanished. It has always been us. And whatever it takes, it has to be like this.

He completely emptied my fridge - ‘cause damn this kid is always hungry! At around 8pm he was - quoting - “literally starving, Tyler!” The agonized look in his eyes made me turn off the lights in the studio and leave the basement. Jenna complained she could make us something to eat, but… one more reason to have him around for tomorrow’s dinner, right?

I don’t remember the last time the night sky was so clear in Columbus. Millions of flickering lights covering the space above us, although the Moon was nowhere to be seen. It was quiet in the streets, we just saw a guy throwing out trash. Everyone is still hiding in their homes, not used to eased regulations, pubs are closed except for takeout. We stopped by the Pizzeria, left the car in the parking lot and went to the park by foot.

“Wanna go up there?” I found Josh five feet behind me, grinning, the tip of his tongue jutting from between his pearl white teeth, pointing up to the roof of a grocery store. _Our_ roof. 

I smirked and nodded: “Definitely”. 

There were countless rooftop junk food / chill out sessions over the years. Since Josh is in LA most of the time, I come here alone sometimes. Like I did today. To write. To think. To remember.

“Do you remember the first time you made me climb up here?” out of the blue he said while we sat in a well known position by the chimney, not even waiting for my response, “just like yesterday” he bit into his jalapeno killer pizza and gazed into the night city.

 _He remembers,_ I thought. I was wondering if he had the same flashbacks as I did earlier that day. As if he was reading my mind: “Do you think about how it all started? … I mean” … turning his head to look me in the face he added: “us?” 

Nod.

“Maybe it’s because we were apart, but… it’s more often now. I think of the time Chris introduced us… gosh I remember every detail. How nervous I was when I got your text asking if I wanna hang out, the panic when I was waiting outside your house because I arrived too early, or every single topic we discussed that night. Funny ‘cause I don’t remember what I was doing last week.” He was looking at his hands, playing with the shoelaces. Gosh I love this boy. Shy, sweet, sentimental. 

We sat there in silence for maybe an hour. Soaking in the moment - the cooling air, the city noises from far away downtown, both got lost in our thoughts, rewinding the past ten years’ worth of memories fondly in our minds on an imaginary screen in front of us. When I turned to him, his eyes were shut and his face was ornamented by a soft smile. 

He probably heard my teeth chattering and figured I was freezing. He stood up, took his hoodie off and without a word, offered it to me. I didn’t refuse. I love wearing clothes warmed by his all-time-heating body, smelling choco-vanilla ice cream he just finished, sweet-woody cologne, herbal shampoo. Josh!

We climbed down the roof and headed into the park. My heart jumped when we entered one of the tiny alleys and his hand was searching for mine. Even though we were in the emptiest and darkest alleys in all of Ohio, he made sure there wasn’t a living soul. Habits. He leaned closer and whispered "I don’t want you to go". And I forgot how to breathe. 

“I’m staying at Josh’s,” I texted Jenna.


End file.
